BTW, CJScalia -- Why would your prof warn against taking the patent bar exam? It is required for patent prosecution. For litigation, being registered to practice before the USPTO is certainly not a deficiency. Studying arcane procedures for this exam is tedious and mind-numbing but everybody I've talked to recommends passing it before starting law school.

His logic was that if you do have the patent bar, whatever law firm you're in are going to stick you with patent litigation 24/7, and you'll essentially never have the opportunity to do anything else. It will get boring and it will make you a very "niche" lawyer.

Anyway, it wasn't so much a warning as "just understand that if you do X, then Y will happen". He never took the patent bar, despite having several degrees including a PhD in engineering.

CJScalia: I'm not sure if I am understanding you correctly. Are you saying that passing the patent bar will make it easier for me to go into litigation work? If that's the case, I'm really glad I'm going to take it in a couple of weeks because litigation seems to me much more interesting than prosecution. Admittedly, my understanding may be second-hand but actual patent litigators have told me that litigation is more interesting work. I've actually worried whether I'll be pigeon-holed into prosecuting certain “niche” IP if I am readily available as a USPTO registered practitioner, given my technical background. Well, your professor's advice, if correct, is surely welcomed news.

BTW, yesterday I attended an “admitted-students” event at Hastings. At some level, these affairs always remind me of the fact that prospective students are buying a very complicated and expensive product. That's a no-brainer, I know, but these reminders are always disappointing perhaps only because I have lingering and misplaced ideals about education. In spite of the tiresome self-congratulations, I did learn more about the school from talking to current students during a tour of the campus. However, I had hoped that the event would make my decision easier but I can't say it has. Having been to a Cardozo reception earlier in the year, despite all the salesmanship, I can definitely say there was a greater sense of camaraderie and an appeal to something greater (i.e., “learning the Law,” whatever that entails is itself a fascinating question) than the professional training of careerists. Cardozo's academic bent is a significant factor not only because of my personal interests/preferences but also given practical considerations. Hastings advertises itself as a school that uniquely train students to be lawyers. However, all the attorneys (partners and associates) I've talked to would question the extent of this “training.” Even if this very preliminary but practical training only serves as an advantage over other recent graduates in the competition for entry-level positions, and regardless of whether a decision based on such short-lived benefits would be prudent, Cardozo's curriculum and clinical training in IP are more extensive than Hastings'. After all, Cardozo is nationally recognized as a top IP law school.

CJScalia: I'm not sure if I am understanding you correctly. Are you saying that passing the patent bar will make it easier for me to go into litigation work? If that's the case, I'm really glad I'm going to take it in a couple of weeks because litigation seems to me much more interesting than prosecution. Admittedly, my understanding may be second-hand but actual patent litigators have told me that litigation is more interesting work. I've actually worried whether I'll be pigeon-holed into prosecuting certain “niche” IP if I am readily available as a USPTO registered practitioner, given my technical background. Well, your professor's advice, if correct, is surely welcomed news.

Alright, I'll straighten out a few things here.

First of all, prosecution is litigating. The distinction you should be making is litigation (court work) versus transactional law (contract negotiations etc). Litigation is simply just the activity of trying cases in court; whether you are on the side of a plaintiff or defendant in a civil case, or prosecutor or defendant in a criminal case, you're still doing litigation.

For the first 1-2 years of your career, you're not going to be litigating jack poo (unless you need to represent yourself in traffic court:p) no matter what you do.

Whether litigation or transactional is most fun I guess depends on what you want, and also to some degree with what you want for your career. If you make a career as a litigator, you are at least pigeon-holing yourself into a "typical" lawyer. Transactional lawyers typically have more opportunities to transition into business careers, investment banks etc. As for the fun factor, it all depends. Litigating is nothing like Alan Shore on Boston Legal though. You're not going to be in a court room pulling rabbits out of your hat and making breathtaking speeches.

Anyhow, back to patents, yes taking the patent bar will inevitably put you in a position to litigate patent claims. And that's the problem sort of. You'll only be litigating patent claims, ever. I haven't spent much time with patent litigation, but it's extremely dry, and a very slow-moving process. Because the nature of the work is very complex, technical issues it's (at least for me) just painstakingly boring. That is of course just a subjective opinion. Find a local patent attorney, send him a polite request if you can observe him in court, and you'll get a general idea of the work.

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However, I had hoped that the event would make my decision easier but I can't say it has. Having been to a Cardozo reception earlier in the year, despite all the salesmanship, I can definitely say there was a greater sense of camaraderie and an appeal to something greater (i.e., “learning the Law,” whatever that entails is itself a fascinating question) than the professional training of careerists. Cardozo's academic bent is a significant factor not only because of my personal interests/preferences but also given practical considerations. Hastings advertises itself as a school that uniquely train students to be lawyers. However, all the attorneys (partners and associates) I've talked to would question the extent of this “training.” Even if this very preliminary but practical training only serves as an advantage over other recent graduates in the competition for entry-level positions, and regardless of whether a decision based on such short-lived benefits would be prudent, Cardozo's curriculum and clinical training in IP are more extensive than Hastings'. After all, Cardozo is nationally recognized as a top IP law school.

1) Ignore everything they say about academics, it's all a sales pitch / propaganda.2) Ignore everything they say about employment prospects, it's all a sales pitch / propaganda.3) Ignore everything they say about "training you to be a lawyer". They don't. They train you to pass an exam. Learning to be a lawyer is what you do in your first and second year of practicing in a law firm.4) The only thing I would look for at these type of events is how you feel about the atmosphere at the school, talk to some current students and get their opinions, see if you like the area the school is located in (it's going to be your home, 24/7, for the next 3 years, you better like it).

You're choosing between a California school and a New York school though; it really should be a no-brainer. Do you want to work in New York, or do you want to work in California? Go to the school that fits that answer.

I don't know jack poo about Hastings, but the people I know at Cardozo seems happy enough. If you like Asian chicks, it's heaven. (Although I would assume Hastings also is). Anyway, as a New Yorker, what can I say? Anyone that picks California over New York is an idiot.

In the world of IP, specifically patents, the term "prosecution" means prosecuting patent applications before the USPTO, whereas "litigation" means legal action (e.g., in CAFC) that deals with patent infringements. I have talked to enough patent attorneys to know that this is standard usage in the field. Anyway, my conclusions based on discussions with experienced attorneys are generally consistent with your enumerated points. Thanks for your responses.

In the world of IP, specifically patents, the term "prosecution" means prosecuting patent applications before the USPTO, whereas "litigation" means legal action (e.g., in CAFC) that deals with patent infringements. I have talked to enough patent attorneys to know that this is standard usage in the field. Anyway, my conclusions based on discussions with experienced attorneys are generally consistent with your enumerated points. Thanks for your responses.

That is true, but that is mainly done by patent agents not patent attorneys. Not saying it's exclusively the realm of agents, but a general rule of thumb is that you don't pay an attorney to do something someone less expensive can do just as fine.

BTW, CJScalia -- Why would your prof warn against taking the patent bar exam? It is required for patent prosecution. For litigation, being registered to practice before the USPTO is certainly not a deficiency. Studying arcane procedures for this exam is tedious and mind-numbing but everybody I've talked to recommends passing it before starting law school.

Yeah, that's kind of screwed up. Passing it before you go to law school will help you immensely in getting patent-related summer jobs.

The other night over dinner, a colleague told me that his brother-in-law was still looking for a job — and so were all his brother-in-law's pals. As it happens, this unemployed relative along with his friends had all recently graduated from architecture school, and they had no choice except to hang out. I listened to this anecdote with interest, not only because when I was young I always wanted to become an architect, but also due to the seemingly daily exposés doubting the value of legal education.

I remain convinced that a Juris Doctor degree is an advisable investment. I'd like to explain why. I know, of course, that as a law school dean I have an interest in the matter, yet I have the role that I do because I believe in the professional training we offer and not vice versa.

Almost exactly 20 years passed from the time I stepped foot in San Francisco to interview with one of the major firms for a summer associate position and the moment I returned to head Hastings, the first law school of the University of California system. I practiced here for a couple of years. When I came back, I was astonished to see that fewer than half of what are now called "big law" firms were still around. Many had merged, some vanished, a few continued. Even the firms that ceased to exist enjoyed fine reputations for their lawyering up to the very end. They just hadn't made the best bets on real estate, lateral partners, branch offices or trends affecting their revenue.

A profound structural transformation has occurred within the bar. The economic crisis has worsened the situation. But the trends likely are permanent rather than temporary. They reflect increased competition among service providers as well as the dynamic nature of the economy in general. Hence, anyone who has followed the news is aware that both the blogosphere and the mainstream media have promoted with enthusiasm the notion that law degrees are more or less worthless, and legal educators are scarcely better than con artists. These claims are as angry as they are anonymous. They nonetheless deserve consideration.

Consider again the recent alumnus of architecture school. If we were to take a strict cost-benefit analysis of the M.Arch degree, it isn't altogether clear that an aspiring Frank Lloyd Wright ought to pursue it notwithstanding his desire to sketch another Fallingwater. The same would be true of a culinary certificate, fashion bachelor's, social work master's, journalism diploma or even a doctorate in any number of specialized academic disciplines.

Ignore for a moment the important issue of whether a utilitarian calculus accurately measures the purpose of education. At least arguably, it must be considered, given the price of tuition and the burden of student loans.

More to the point, however, what is remarkable is the difference between the feelings about architecture as an example on the one hand and law on the other hand. Diatribes about the study of design attract no attention, other than among those aficionados who may dispute whether journalist Tom Wolfe was right about modernism or visionary Robert Venturi about post-modernism.

Architecture school isn't much of a bargain either. Three years of law school and three years of architecture school are comparable. Despite that, like a range of other fields and unlike law, architecture has attracted no denunciation from its own professional association. I wonder, then, what it is that prompts the hostility toward the 200 or so accredited law schools. Some of the feeling may be similar to the sentiment of a lawyer joke. Lay people often come into contact with the law through disputes or as they are trying to come to agreement, which as expected, does not enamor them even to the individuals trained to give them advice and counsel. The clients pay for the lawyer, however good they are, and may see us as a transaction cost if not a nuisance.

That may excuse the emotions of a public that does not understand how crucial law is to their lives. It does not address, however, the seeming hatred of persons, who have been given the power to appear in a court of law as a representative who seeks to advance a cause, toward their own profession.

It has probably much to do with expectations. At any moment, a TV viewer is able to channel-surf among a dozen television programs depicting the attorney at law as glamorous, witty and well-paid. Indeed, a law school alumnus can be dated by the shows that initially captivated him: if it was the defining "L.A. Law," the would-be Clarence Darrow came of age in the late 1980s; if it was "Ally McBeal," then the 1990s; "Boston Legal," the 2000s; and so on.

Except for that rare airing of "The Fountainhead," the 1949 movie based on the Ayn Rand novel, starring Gary Cooper as Howard Roark, it would be difficult to find a single depiction of the architect as the hero. As a consequence, dreamers enroll in architecture school out of the desire to build a new world. They do not imagine that a life at the drafting table will be lucrative, or that blueprints for others will pay their own mortgages.

The truth is when I arrived in this city just before a mild recession, only a minority of students from a minority of campuses were even considered for openings at Financial District establishments. Then as now, most lawyers were solo practitioners, with firms of modest size, or in public service. These were perceived as honorable means to make a living. The fanciest jobs with the highest salaries were not available to the average student at the average school. And those who started in such associate positions historically have been highly unlikely to persist more than a few years before leaving for other opportunities albeit at lower levels of compensation.

Law, as a business, has changed so much merely in the generation I have witnessed. People whose parents would have been powerless within the justice system, owing to discrimination, now are recruited for their cultural competence. Former engineers and scientists who might have regarded themselves as implausible advocates and counselors, and who could even have faced bias in the admissions process, are sought after for their blend of technical background and legal abilities.

There remains a tremendous demand for legal services. Even as we lament the loss of jobs at firms of more than a thousand lawyers, there are still underserved communities lacking access. Developing economies yearn to adapt, and we urge upon them the Anglo-American precedent-based system of justice, and they find they need the lawyers to work within it. Thus, declaring legal education to be a mistake is akin to doubting the rule of law itself. Legal education should be reformed.

The curriculum of law school has great potential. In my view, the best legal education is practical, without a false dichotomy between what is practical and what is intellectual. It is global, applicable universally without regard for local limitations. It emphasizes problem solving and leadership, using law as an integral part of a set of techniques.

In some countries, talented students chose design as a major because they see it will prepare them well regardless of their eventual occupation. Here, law has been a default for many who were not quite ready for a specific career. It is up to us, who are privileged to teach, to show those who wish to learn exactly how what we impart will improve lives. We should explain that law school should be a deliberate choice and not a fallback.

Make no mistake. I am not defending cheating by administrators for the purpose of rankings, expensive bureaucracies in universities, or degrees that are priced beyond what the average family can reasonably afford.

No, I only want to make our choices clear. If we desire a school with the best academic reputation, there are rivals in the marketplace for talent just the same as for lawyers in private practice; they will bid up the compensation levels. If we want comprehensive systems for tracking statistics to report to prospective matriculants, an office has to be created to compile the numbers. If we deliberately eliminate the public funding that built terrific institutions to the envy of the world, then budgets need to be balanced by other means.

In the end, law is inherently a public good instead of a private good. Higher education, too, is a public good. It is good for all of us, not just those of us who are acquiring it directly. The success of California is the story of human capital.

Legal education is even more of a public good. Whether it is our civil rights, civic responsibilities, or our contractual agreements, everything else in society is made possible by the rule of law. In turn, law depends on lawyers. Those lawyers are produced by law schools.

My message is this: It is up to us to create a new paradigm for legal education.

I read your article "Value of Legal Education" with great interest. In fact, I am taking a leave of absence this semester to reconsider the value of legal education. I am an older student with extensive professional experience. Given my 1L experience at Hastings, I agree with your fundamental point that legal education should be reformed.

I do not deny that during my year at Hastings I have had genuine learning experiences. However, I believe that they are outweighed by exactly those experiences that have led others to conclude -- perhaps too harshly -- that "legal educators are scarcely better than con artists." For example, one course was canceled mid-semester due to students' concerns and complaints about the instructor's competency. For the same reason, halfway into the spring semester, after some bureaucratic wrangling, I transferred to a different 1L section for another course. I regret not doing the same for several other courses.

I believe your enthusiasm for reforming legal education is shared by many (at least those professors, attorneys, and students I've talked to). The question is really the extent of the reform. I doubt that there are many who would repudiate the century-old case method and its Harvard derivation. I doubt there are many who would advocate for the apprenticeship model (despite law office study programs in seven states) and reading Blackstone's Commentaries on the Laws of England -- as Daniel Webster and Abraham Lincoln did in their time. Legal education, for better or for worse, has become institutionalized.

I was formally educated at one of the top institutions in the country. I also have been employed by sizable organizations. I understand how an institution's priorities can be reflected in the ease or the difficulty of certain tasks. For example, earlier in the summer, I received an email from you urging me to reconsider transferring to another school. I was impressed with the efficiency with which my visit to the registrar's office had triggered your immediate attention. Your prompt email, in response to my transcript request, certainly reflects the institutional and business imperative in retaining students.

However, my attempts at obtaining historical data of Pacer survey results have been repeatedly frustrated. Without such data I cannot assess whether student feedback is actually helping professors improve as teachers. What I had hoped to see is a general increase in teaching quality.

I do not know how Hastings is encouraging its professors to be more receptive to suggestions by students. Paradigms and polemics aside, I do like your idea that "an office has to be created to compile the numbers." I believe Hastings can benefit from such self-scrutiny.